


Hey There Delilah

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan is a softie, Arthur Morgan is in love, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, In Love, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Pining, Surprise Kissing, cute kissing, letter writing, long distance, meeting up, surprise, surprise meeting, travelling, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And Arthur would write, to New York, every waking dawn. Not frantic, nor in a panic or represented rush, but with ease. Composure was worn upon his face, and sometimes a smile would pull at the corners of his lips. Though, if a smile was not visual, it danced in his eyes. They’d always say, eyes are the window to the soul, and Arthur was evidence of the spoken word. The pencil scratched the paper, yet the words were written within his irises, or the paced choruses of his breathing as he eased into the tell tales.





	Hey There Delilah

And Arthur would write, to New York, every waking dawn. Not frantic, nor in a panic or represented rush, but with ease. Composure was worn upon his face, and sometimes a smile would pull at the corners of his lips. Though, if a smile was not visual, it danced in his eyes. They’d always say, eyes are the window to the soul, and Arthur was evidence of the spoken word. The pencil scratched the paper, yet the words were written within his irises, or the paced choruses of his breathing as he eased into the tell tales.

 

Many would ask, from Mary-Beth to Susan, of whom this mystery receiver was. The receiver of unspoken word, John called romance, adorning a hue of pinkish red among Arthur’s cheeks. A hint toward him being correct? Perhaps. 

 

Either way, the letters refrained from making a halt, despite hell riding on the backs of the gang. 

 

Evening rolled in, over in Shady Belle, and Charles dared to question Morgan about the letters as the balcony cradled the two. Arthur, finally, plucked courage to open the pages of his book, but only to Charles (as always). “It’s for her, over in New York.” Spoke he, with great admiration. Charles cocked a brow, leaning against the worn railing as stars littered his pupils. “ Her ?” He questioned .  Unusually, Arthur showed no sense of hesitation prior to answering. “Yes, her, (Y/N). My love, as sappy as that sounds.” Hah, still begrudged. Charles gave a fond smile, followed by the ghost of a chuckle. “It’s not that sappy, love is a beautiful thing, Arthur. Why don’t you visit her?” Morgan’s gaze fell from the moon, and he gave a deepened sigh. “I wish I could, I just can’t seem to find the time.” He said, disdained. Charles hummed. “Find the time, Arthur. Take the opportunity while it stands, and quit worrying about Dutch.” He almost scolded Arthur into visitation, tone growing tense toward the last string of words. Arthur gave a laugh of sorts, and nodded. “I suppose I could go, for a little.” Charles gave an abrupt thwack to Arthur’s back, mimicking a pat, and walked away from the conversation. After a gentle cough of surprise, Arthur sprung to action. 

 

Saddle weighted with supplies, and horse almost as well groomed as he, Morgan set on his journey. An intense fluttering attacked his chest, forcing his heart to beat against his ribcage with excitement. His most recent writings lay home within his satchel. After all this time, a letter would be gifted in person. “I’m coming for you, (Y/N).”

 

In all honesty and truth, Arthur couldn’t wait to bring surprise to the eyes of his self-proclaimed “love.” Deeply, she felt the same, though would shy from admittance. Arthur had managed to weave together an excuse for his absence, and Dutch complied with reluctancy. Thus, here he was, dashing through open plains and riding rickety old trains. It came at an expense, but to be frank, Arthur didn’t care if it bled his pockets dry. 

 

Following a rough sleep, with a window being generous enough to pillow his head, Arthur reached his destination. For once, he was frantic. He scrambled off of the vehicle, and met unfamiliar ground. Again, he avoided the burden of caring. Morgan jogged through the city, scanning face after face, eyes tired of darting with frequency. His glance lost fluency, and he paused to regain. 

 

Tap, tap. 

 

Arthur raised his head, and a surge of happiness thrilled his every nerve. “(Y/N)!” He cried out, giving a swift scoop, earning giggles from the other. Grinning, (Y/N) placed palms against Morgan’s cheeks. They squashed a little, and the heat was shockingly intense, but neither of them took notice. Lips pressed, and sweet soaked laughter arose.

 

“Oh how I missed you...” (Y/N) muttered, as feet touched ground again. Arthur kept grip upon her hips, yet one hand disappeared to pass on the letter as planned. “Would you read it for me, now?” Arthur requested, abandoning grip to awkwardly twiddle. She, (Y/N), nodded in obedience. “Of course.” 

 

A gasp. “Arthur...Arthur Morgan, you want me to marry you?” 


End file.
